


Explaining Magic

by sunstarunicorn



Series: It's a Magical Flashpoint [18]
Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis, Flashpoint (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Magic Revealed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2019-02-08 01:17:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12853605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunstarunicorn/pseuds/sunstarunicorn
Summary: A Reveal in Three Parts.  Claire Wordsworth and Amanda Simmons are safe; now it’s time to pay the Piper.  As Greg and Lance explain magic to Winnie, Wordy, Shelley, and Alanna are introducing the Wordsworth girls to their new world, and Madame Locksley finally gives Commander Holleran the explanation he’s been demanding for weeks.





	1. Winnie

**Author's Note:**

> This story is the eighteenth in the Magical Flashpoint series. It follows "Saving Simmons".
> 
> Although all original characters belong to me, I do not own _Flashpoint_ , _Harry Potter_ , _Narnia_ , or _Merlin_.

A Reveal in Three Parts

~

Winnie looked up from her desk as Sergeant Parker and his nephew came in. Her boss had called hours earlier to update her on the case: their successful rescue of the girls and the arrest of Auror Anderson, but she’d hung around, hoping to catch Parker and get at least a few of her questions answered.

“Good evening, Winnie,” Sarge greeted her, giving her his trademark smile. “Do you have some time or do you need to get home?”

“I have time, sir,” Winnie replied, smiling back at the pair and hoping that Lance’s presence wouldn’t prevent Sarge from explaining.

“Okay,” her boss acknowledged, “Let’s go in the briefing room, Winnie. The paperwork is going to have to wait a few days for things to settle down, but we can answer a few questions tonight.”

Once in the briefing room, Sarge tapped the door controls, lowering the door to the briefing room. Winnie sat at the table, watching her boss and his nephew curiously. Lance’s eyes danced with a hidden amusement and he played with something on his forearm while he waited for his uncle.

“Okay, Winnie, your choice: you can ask questions now or I can give you the overview and then you can ask,” Sarge announced, sitting down at the table with an almost silent sigh of relief at being off his feet.

It was an easy choice, so Winnie tilted her head and said, “Might as well start from the beginning, sir.”

Another one of her boss’s smiles flashed across the distance. “All right. It started two years ago when _mio nipotes_ moved here from England.”

Winnie’s eyes widened as she drew the logical conclusion. Looking over at Lance, she asked, “You have magic?”

“Yeah,” Lance confirmed, with a grin. “So does ‘Lanna…we were born in the magical world and we’d never been in the tech world before.”

“Tech? Is that what you call our world?” Winnie inquired.

Both of them hesitated, Lance looking to his uncle for permission; Sarge sighed and took over. “Spike’s the one who came up with ‘tech’, Winnie…most of the magical world calls our world the ‘Muggle’ world and any magicals born on ‘our’ side of the fence are called ‘Muggleborns’. The Auror who brought the kids to Toronto told me that we had to keep magic a secret; that didn’t last twelve hours.” Winnie giggled at Sarge’s proud, exasperated tone of voice. “By the end of the kids’ first day with me, everyone except Rollie knew about magic; Sam hadn’t joined the team yet.”

“So, did Sam know about magic before he joined the team?” Winnie asked.

Lance snickered and Sarge tossed him a mild glare. “As it turned out, he did, but I wasn’t informed. Our Auror liaison not only didn’t tell me, he ran me around in circles for weeks when I asked for permission to tell Sam and never _did_ tell me Sam knew about magic; Sam finally told us he knew about the magical world after a hot call during which I called Scorpio on a wizard subject suspected of killing six women on our side of the fence.”

Winnie’s brows furrowed in confusion. “If Sam knew about magic, does that mean he’s magical?”

Lance shook his head and answered before Sarge could. “Sam’s father was born to a magical family, but he didn’t have enough magic to be a wizard, so he had to leave the magical world. Both here in Toronto and back in England, people born to magical parents without enough magic to use are called Squibs, so, basically, Sam’s Squib-born and he’s known about magic his whole life.”

“Not exactly the way I would have put it,” Sarge remarked, “But close enough.” Lance, far from being embarrassed by his uncle’s mild rebuke, just smirked. “Between the hot call and a few…subsequent events, we earned Auror status and the Auror Division started making improvements to our shields and body armor.”

As he spoke, he pulled out a small leather badge wallet and slid it over to Winnie. She opened up the wallet, pulling back a bit in surprise at the sight of her boss’s image actually _moving_ on the ID. Opposite the ID, the badge was quietly elegant and, aside from the wand, not even openly magical. After examining the badge, she offered it back to her boss. “So, how often have your calls actually been on the magic side of the fence, sir?”

“For the past three, four weeks, I’d say about half of our calls have been magic-side,” Sarge replied, thoughtful. “Before that, they were much rarer; I hope after tonight, they’ll go back to being more rare…the Auror Division needs to stop their current trend of getting too dependent on us.” He leaned forward, still thoughtful. “As far as _your_ role goes, I’m planning on getting you onboard as a dispatcher, just like you are tech-side.” Winnie nodded agreement. “The paperwork is going to have to wait until Madame Locksley briefs Commander Holleran; he’s been getting annoyed with me for telling him so many of our calls are ‘classified’.” Winnie grimaced, Holleran hadn’t been the only one getting annoyed by that. “We’ll probably have to play things by ear at first, but I think we’ll get most everything hammered out in fairly short order.”

“Yes, sir,” Winnie agreed, not quite sure what else she _could_ say. Her eyes darted between her boss and Lance, then she requested, tentatively, “Can you…show me?”

Lance’s grin lit up the room and he gave his uncle a pleading look. Sergeant Parker studied his nephew, then he sighed and gave his nephew a ‘go ahead’ gesture. With a soft, “Yes!” Lance pushed aside part of the table, giving himself more room. He backed up, then _blurred_ , his form shifting into a large part lion, part eagle animal. The animal **churr** -ed, wings sweeping out before folding back on his back. Intelligent, sapphire-blue eagle eyes regarded her and a lion’s tail, adorned with tail feathers, arched over his back.

Winnie gaped at the animal, shocked by the transformation and irrefutable proof that magic was real. Sarge chuckled a little at the look on her face and stood up, approaching the beautiful predator with no fear whatsoever. She trailed after him, getting up close to the animal, marveling at the smooth shift between feathers and fur, the detail on the tail feathers, and the sleek muscles visible on the animal’s legs and shoulders.

“What is he?” Winnie asked, running a hand over one wing.

Sarge’s grin could only be called impish. “He’s a gryphon Animagus, Winnie. An Animagus is a magical capable of transforming into an animal.” Sarge gave the gryphon a warning look. “Of course, he’s _not_ going to do what Alanna did and fly _right_ into the middle of a hot call with a _sniper_.” The gryphon ducked his head, giving them an innocent look from behind one wing. “Don’t give _me_ that, young man,” Sarge scolded.

Winnie couldn’t help it; at the wounded expression the gryphon gave his uncle, she doubled over, roaring with laughter.


	2. The Wordsworth Girls

Wordy, still carrying Claire, nodded thanks to the girl who held the door open for him. “Shel, we’re home,” he called. He’d had time earlier to call her and let her know Claire was safe, but it had taken another two hours for both father and daughter to be cleared by the Healers and to deal with the call’s aftermath.

Shelley Wordsworth practically flew into the front hallway, drawing a cry of, “Mommy!” from Claire.

Claire slipped out of Wordy’s grip and surged into her very willing mother’s arms; Shelley hugged her daughter fiercely, tears in her eyes as the two clung to each other. “I’m here, baby; I’m here.” After a few seconds, Shelley looked up at her husband and moved over to him, enfolding him into a three-way hug that Wordy’s guest looked away from, old grief flashing across her face. “Thank you, Kevin,” Shelley whispered, “Thank you for bringing her home.”

Wordy hugged his wife and daughter a bit harder, then, reluctantly, released them and stepped back. “Hey, Shel? Remember when we were talking about if the girls had…” his eyes darted sideways to their guest, “…certain talents?”

Shelley nodded, looking confused.

Wordy’s smile was weak, but there. “Surprise,” he teased, “It’s a witch.”

Claire’s expression was a mix of confused and indignant. “I’m not a witch!” she protested.

A soft laugh came from the Wordsworth’s young guest. “It’s not a bad thing, Claire,” Alanna informed the younger girl. “Your Dad is just saying you have magic.”

Claire cocked her head, studying Alanna. “You’re like Amanda, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Alanna replied simply. Looking up at the two adults, she added, “Might as well tell all of them now; they’re going to find out once Claire turns eleven anyway.”

At Claire and her husband’s pleading looks, Shelley sighed and inclined her head. “They’re still up; I couldn’t send them to bed with Claire missing.”

With that, Shelley let her daughter down and led the group into the family living room; where, a year earlier, Alanna had shown off her Animagus form to the two adults. Lilly and Ally leapt off the couch at the sight of their sister and swarmed both her and their father. Alanna, spotting something none of them had, managed to use her magic to pull all three girls away from their father right before he could accidently hit them as another post-Cruciatus attack struck, sending him to the floor in a series of muscle spasms that left him panting for breath.

“Kevin!” Shelley cried in alarm as Alanna got between her daughters and their father, kneeling beside her husband with a solemn look.

“I’m okay,” Kevin panted before Alanna could say anything; he was already crawling to his feet again. “Thanks, kiddo.”

In the better light and without Claire in the way, Shelley could see that her husband wasn’t wearing his usual SRU uniform, but rather an all-black set of clothing that looked like a mix of his uniform and something almost medieval. Of course, the medieval look was nixed by her husband’s sidearm holster strapped to his right leg, the equipment hanging from his belt, and the patches she could see on the outfit’s shoulders. With a quiet groan, Kevin shed the vambraces, gloves, and jacket, revealing a black tunic and a gray undershirt. Shelley took the jacket, marveling at the feel and look of the leather, though it wasn’t like any leather she’d ever seen before. But her attention shifted back to her exhausted husband and she gave him a _Look_ , demanding, “What happened to you?”

Kevin cringed and Alanna stepped into the breach with a grim, “He found the girls, but he got jumped by Auror Anderson,” Shelley gasped, “Anderson hit him with an Unforgivable – thank Aslan it wasn’t the Killing Curse – but it’s going to be about a day before the aftereffects fade.” Alanna drew in a breath, then added, all in a rush, “Anderson’s on his way to McKean Magical Prison for kidnapping, use of an Unforgivable, and attempted murder.”

“What’s an Unforgivable?” Claire asked, drawing attention back to herself. “Amanda said that, but I don’t know what that means.”

Alanna sighed, crouching down to Claire’s level and looking between her and the other two girls. “I’m doing this wrong, aren’t I?” she started. “Okay, first things first: magic is real and you’re a witch – that’s a girl magical,” she added with a wink. “As far as _we_ – me, your parents, my brother, and Team One – are concerned, you’re a tech-born witch, but most of the magical world will call you a Muggleborn witch. It’s the same thing, Claire, we just think tech-born is more accurate and less insulting,” Alanna winked again, drawing a giggle from Claire. “And yes, I am like Amanda; I’m what’s called a pureblood, which means my family’s had magic for a really, really long time.”

Claire considered this, then questioned, “Then why do you live with Uncle Greg? _He’s_ not magic, is he?”

With a laugh, Alanna sat next to the girls, eyes sparkling. “No, he’s not,” she agreed. “His grandmother on his dad’s side was a Calvin before she married and her branch of the family moved here when _my_ family had a child who couldn’t use magic back in the 1800s.” She cocked her head, then looked up, silently asking for permission. Wordy grimaced, but gave her a single nod.

Alanna’s eyes warmed as she turned back to the girls. “In the 1990s, my grandparents died, so my Dad started looking for someone to take me and my brother in if anything happened to him and Mom. He hired our magical bankers – they’re goblins – to trace our family’s genealogy and find any distant family members that our family had lost track of. They found Uncle Greg, so, when my parents died, we were sent here.”

Lilly put her own question forward, “Is Claire the only one with magic?” She was already pouting, clearly expecting the answer to be ‘yes’.

Alanna regarded her, then a hint of mischief entered her eyes and she leaned forward. “Maybe. Have you ever made anything happen? Anything you couldn’t explain?”

Wordy and Shelley traded surprised looks at the tactic. If Lilly and Ally _didn’t_ have magic… Wordy found himself hoping they did, if only so he and Shelley didn’t have to deal with the inevitable tantrums. To their further surprise, Lilly considered the question for several moments, mulling it over. Then she shrugged, but didn’t look up. Ally looked between her sisters and Alanna, sniffling.

But Alanna was grinning, with a distinct edge of ‘I-know-something-you-don’t’ in her posture. Wordy cleared his throat and gave her an expectant look. The grin faded a little at his raised eyebrow. With a mock huff, she finally replied, “Claire and Lilly are both tech-borns and I’m _pretty_ sure Ally is too, but not one-hundred percent…not yet anyway.”

Shelley gasped softly; Wordy just sighed, resigned to the inevitable. Three witches in the family, all growing up…with magic added to the drama, hormones, and everything else that came with the ladies in his life. He wondered how long it would be before they found cosmetic charms and whatever else magical women used for their looks. Shelley’s lips twitched at the look on his face, amused by his father’s dread of his little girls growing up. Then she asked her own question. “How? I mean, neither Kevin nor I have magic, Alanna…so how do the girls have it?”

To her surprise, Alanna giggled…at her husband. “You never told her?”

Kevin actually blushed a little at the tease. “Kinda slipped my mind actually,” he admitted. Then he turned towards Shelley. “Shel, think about it: Alanna _just_ told the girls that Sarge’s grandmother was descended from a branch of her family that _didn’t_ have magic…or at least, not enough to use. That’s _one_ family, with who knows how many people on the tech side of things that _might_ be descended from them.”

From the floor, Alanna added, “Think of magic as a recessive gene, Aunt Shelley: it might go dormant for generations, but it’s still there. And the more generations there are between the last magical parents and the first tech-born, the more people there are who _have_ that recessive gene. It could be Uncle Wordy who has the gene; it could be _you_ who has the gene; it could even be _both_ of you…we just don’t know.”

Curious, Shelley inquired, “Is there any way to find out?”

“Sure,” Alanna replied, tilting her head to the side. “The goblins could do an inheritance test on Claire. That would tell you her genealogy all the way back as far as the goblins’ magic can go. Ten generations, at least, I think. It would cost money though; goblins don’t do _anything_ for free.”

“Then who paid for the armor?” Kevin challenged, looking alarmed underneath his exhaustion.

A smirk was his reply. “I said the _goblins_ don’t do anything for free, Uncle Wordy. The armor’s Narnian made, remember? Silnok just delivered it; that might have cost money, but we didn’t have to pay. Not for the armor anyway.”

Quite deliberately, Kevin flipped his phone to the girl, pressing her, “Then who paid for the phones, ‘Lanna? I know it wasn’t our unit.”

For the first time, Alanna looked unsure of herself. The girls were wide-eyed, taking in the fact that their parents had known about magic for awhile. Finally, Alanna sighed, fingering the phone. “You’re half-right, Uncle Wordy. Uncle Greg _did_ ask the goblins to make the phones for the whole team _and_ the team’s Auror liaison. But he didn’t pay for it…not directly.”

“You and Lance did,” Kevin concluded, his voice a whisper.

A shrug, but Alanna was getting her cockiness back again. “You have any idea what happens if all of _this_ ,” Alanna waved at him, his armor, and the phone in her hand, “works? Every day, the magical world gets closer and closer to the day when we _can’t_ hide anymore. Cameras, satellites, computers, and everything else? Yeah, a wizard _could_ fool them, but only _if_ we know about them…and we’re talking about a society that still uses quill and parchment – and thinks airplanes are made of wood and fabric. And _that’s_ assuming they know about airplanes in the first place. Tech-borns spend seven years at school, living mostly on the magic side of life, so even though they know about technology, they don’t really know what it can do.”

“You’re talking about Britain, not here,” Kevin pointed out, “Here you guys go to school, yeah, but then you’re home.”

An acknowledging nod. “Yeah, we do. And you’re right, it’s easier for kids here to keep up with technology because we _don’t_ go to a boarding school nine months out of the year. But honestly? If it weren’t for you guys pushing us to use technology, pushing us to understand how to live on _both_ sides, we wouldn’t. Even now, we wouldn’t. Most parents don’t do that; my tech-born classmates are just as clueless as the purebloods about almost _any_ technological advance that happened after they started school. So, without you, _all_ of you, we’d probably be just like Amanda, giving ourselves away without even trying and clueless about how to operate in the tech world.”

Shelley contained herself with an effort. “So, you’re saying that, by helping Team One work in the magical world, your family is…positioning itself for the day when magicals can’t hide anymore?” Considering how the kids seemed to love Team One, that seemed rather callous to her.

“That’s how Lance justified it to our accountant,” Alanna confirmed. “The phones were actually probably the _cheapest_ part; goblins have had those runes worked out for _years_ even if it took a bit of fiddling for the smartphones to work. The computers for the Command Truck, Babycakes, even the upgrades they’re planning to use for the computers all four trucks use for their engines…all of that has to be developed, improved. Babycakes is actually a prototype right now and Uncle Spike has to keep a log of how she works and what doesn’t work.”

Kevin whistled, impressed. Claire, Lilly, and Ally were lost, too young to really understand what Alanna was telling their parents, but they _were_ impressed…and they wanted, someday, to help. Shelley, watching all of them, considered that sort of future: her husband and her girls, working to make magic and technology work side by side, instead of against each other. It was a future to look forward to…a future worth fighting for.


	3. Commander Holleran

Commander Norm Holleran was extremely unhappy with his top team. The news of Claire Wordsworth’s kidnapping had swept through the station, putting backs up and nearly inciting a riot when Sergeant Parker had refused to let any of the other teams in on the manhunt. Worse, in a clear cut violation of protocol, Parker hadn’t taken Constable Wordsworth off duty and the sparse report Holleran had gotten stated Wordsworth had been the first to encounter the subject – after locating the missing girls in a location that had been withheld.

First thing tomorrow, Sergeant Parker was _going_ to give him an explanation. An explanation that in no way included the phrases: ‘that’s classified, sir’, ‘I’m sorry, sir’, or ‘I can’t talk about that, sir’. Still fuming, Commander Holleran checked over his desk and prepared to lock up and leave for the night.

“Commander Holleran?” a female voice inquired. He looked up to see a woman with a sturdy frame, dark blond hair in a bun, and a monocle over one eye standing in the doorway. The dark blond hair was going gray around the edges and she was a centimeter or two shorter than the stocky Sergeant currently on his blacklist. Lurking behind her was a man, taller than her by half a meter, with medium brown hair, a rather scruffy look, and wearing a dark brown jacket, black pants, and knee-high black boots.

“Yes?” Holleran questioned.

The woman gave him a smile, though it was still stern and authoritative. “I am Commander Locksley. I realize it’s quite late, but perhaps I might have a moment or two of your time?”

Holleran considered her and her companion. “Regarding what, Commander Locksley?”

“Team One,” was the surprising response. “As a matter of fact, I’m here to answer your questions regarding Sergeant Parker’s actions as of late.”

Gray brows hiked in bemusement. “You are? Sergeant Parker’s decisions are his own, ma’am; additionally, he is under my command, not yours.”

The woman shook her head. “I’m afraid Sergeant Parker is actually under both of our commands, Commander Holleran, and has been for quite some time. The same is true for his team.” So saying, Commander Locksley presented a clipboard to Holleran, with a sheet of paper and a pen. “But before I can explain things, I’m afraid I’ll need you to sign onto the Official Secrets Act, Commander Holleran.”

Commander Holleran frowned, but read through the paper and signed it. He gave it back; Locksley inspected his signature a moment before nodding to her subordinate. Her subordinate pulled a carved wooden stick from a holster attached to his right leg, then waved it at the door before giving his superior a confirming nod.

Locksley’s smile was satisfied, amused; she turned to Holleran and said simply, “Magic is real, Commander Holleran, and your top team has been working to ‘keep the peace’ in _both_ our worlds for two years.”

Holleran reared back, already scowling. What nonsense was this? Magic? His Sergeant answering to the madwoman in front of him? But before he could sputter out a demand for the madwoman and her subordinate to leave, the subordinate pointed his stick at a stapler on Holleran’s desk and said a word. The stapler shifted form, right in front of him, becoming a Glock 17, complete with a tactical light attached. The older man felt his jaw drop as the man said another word, along with a gesture with that stick, and the former stapler lifted off the desk and flew to the, the…wizard.

“Was that _entirely_ necessary, Auror Onasi?” Commander Locksley inquired, a clipped tone in her voice.

“Yes, ma’am,” ‘Auror’ Onasi replied, hefting the former stapler. “Just saying magic exists isn’t enough, ma’am. My mother’s Muggleborn and she’s talked about when she was first visited and told about magic. The Deputy Headmistress had to prove magic was real before her family would even _consider_ sending her to the Toronto School of Magic.” His attention turned to Commander Holleran and he gave the man a slight bow. “Auror Giles Onasi, sir; I’m the new liaison between the Auror Division and Team One.”

Holleran’s eyebrows, by this time, had made a valiant attempt to vanish into what was left of his hairline. “Is that so?” he managed, before regaining enough poise to turn back to ‘Commander’ Locksley. “You aren’t actually a commander, are you?”

She shook her head, looking a tad rueful. “Madame Locksley, head of the Auror Division, Commander Holleran. I do use Commander on your side of the fence though.” She looked to her ‘Auror’ and added, “Since you seem to know how to introduce someone to magic, Auror Onasi…” She gestured to Holleran, then shifted back to watch.

“Yes, ma’am,” Onasi acknowledged with a duck of his head. He tapped the gun with his stick and it shifted form again, becoming a stapler once more. As the wizard placed it back on Holleran’s desk, he explained, “I don’t know the entire story, Commander Holleran, but your team found out about magic shortly after Sergeant Parker’s young cousins moved here. As for the magic bit, well, magic _is_ real; you just saw me transfigure your stapler into a gun and there’s an entire hidden community of wizards and witches who use magic on a daily basis. Our world is, by and large, much like your own. We have our own government, our own law enforcement, schools, shopping centers…just about everything you have.”

Holleran considered the wizard in front of him, radiating earnestness, and decided to cut to the heart of the issue. “I suppose it’s the law enforcement part that concerns us at the moment, isn’t it?”

Onasi nodded as his superior took over again. “Just so, Commander Holleran. Auror Onasi is correct, your team discovered magic when Sergeant Parker’s charges first moved here from Britain. The same day, actually; my office received an alert when several non-magicals were pulled through the wards of Toronto’s largest magical shopping mall. We dispatched two Aurors to investigate and, if necessary, _Obliviate_ the non-magicals who’d managed to stumble onto our world. Instead, they found that your team had been informed by two underage wizards about magic _and_ that your team had immediately used their new knowledge to end a hostage situation without loss of life.”

Holleran regarded her severely. “You mean to tell me that you would have tampered with _my_ people? With _civilians_?”

Madame Locksley didn’t even twitch. “That is our government’s policy at this time, Commander Holleran. Your Sergeant suggested, and my Auror agreed, that Team One could serve as a bridge, of sorts, between our worlds. Although at first we insisted that they operate under Auror procedures and guidelines, they eventually managed to prove that their own methods were…quite effective.”

She’d skipped over something and Holleran wasn’t about to let her skim over something that made both her and her subordinate twitchy. “And how did my team prove that?” he demanded.

For a long moment, she did not respond, then she sighed, softly. “A training exercise was proposed, to allow your team to show what they could do on equal footing against a squad of my best Aurors. When your team managed to detain three of my Aurors in less than an hour, the remaining Aurors…lost their tempers. The result was, to put it bluntly, a debacle – one your team overcame. They _beat_ all eight of my best Aurors, though the dirty tactics _did_ result in a serious injury to Constable Wordsworth.”

Holleran bristled at the information. “You _injured_ one of my constables in a _training_ exercise?”

Shame filled Locksley’s eyes and she dropped her gaze. “I can make no excuses, Commander Holleran. Your team behaved much more professionally than my Aurors did. Since that time, they have held rank in _both_ worlds; acting as Aurors on the magic side of things and constables on the technological side of things. We’ve called them in many times, though I intend to tone that down after tonight’s events, and they’ve managed to impress even my most skeptical Aurors.”

A certain event occurred to Holleran and he sat forward. “Sergeant Parker’s collapse?”

Madame Locksley actually flinched. “Yes, Commander Holleran, it _was_ caused by magic. However, though I do not have all the details, I _do_ know that it was…an aberration and unlikely to happen again. His recovery several days later was also magic related.”

Though not altogether pleased with the sparse details, Holleran decided to get more information about the collapse from his Sergeant later and moved on. “You’ve kept all of this from me for years. Why tell me now?”

“Quite simply, we can no longer continue as we have been. Much as your team beating my squad of Aurors necessitated a change in our procedure, so, too, have the events of tonight.” Locksley paused, ordering her explanation. “The first girl kidnapped by a now former Auror, Julian Anderson, is magical herself. Sergeant Parker issued an Amber Alert for her so that she could be found, regardless of which side of the fence her kidnapper hid her on.”

Holleran nodded, agreeing with his Sergeant’s tactic.

“When Anderson kidnapped young Claire Wordsworth, Auror Wordsworth remained on duty because no one could take his place. None of your other teams are cleared to know about the magical world, none of them have the magically reinforced armor and shields my division has created for Team One. It _was_ a breach of procedure, but a necessary one. Moreover, if I may be blunt?”

Commander Holleran considered her, eyes narrowing as he scented another bombshell coming. He sighed and inclined his head.

“I believe that if anyone other than Auror Wordsworth had found those two girls, they – and the girls – likely would not have survived,” Locksley admitted. “Anderson was determined to prove that Team One had no place in _magical_ law enforcement and he went to extreme lengths to do so. In fact, Auror Wordsworth was forced to fight for his life for some minutes before Auror Onasi arrived and stunned Anderson from behind…while Anderson was casting what we call an Unforgivable at Auror Wordsworth.”

“And this Anderson? What happens to him?” Commander Holleran demanded, leaning forward in his chair.

“Casting an Unforgivable is, in itself, an automatic life sentence in our McKean Magical Prison. Add to that the charges for kidnapping and attempted murder and Anderson won’t see the light of day ever again.” Locksley sighed to herself. “I won’t say they’re safe in our world. They don’t have magic and that’s a handicap they’ll always have to deal with on our side. At the same time, they’ve made a difference; one I wouldn’t have believed possible two years ago.”

“You want them to keep making a difference,” Holleran mused, thoughtful. At her nod, he shifted back in his chair, tapping the desk as he thought her proposal over. He still wasn’t completely happy with the idea; it put even more stress on a team that saw more than their fair share.

At the same time, he knew Parker, knew Team One. He suspected they had been the ones to demand the chance to prove themselves, to _prove_ that they were equals to the wizards in front of him. At last, he leaned forward again. “I’m not making any decisions tonight, Madame Locksley. Instead, you and your liaison are going to set up an appointment with me a week from now…during working hours. At that time, I will lay out my expectations and we can discuss how this will work going forward. I assume that I’m now cleared for _all_ of my team’s transcripts?”

Locksley inclined her head. “You are, Commander Holleran.”

“Good,” Holleran said flatly. “I’ll be honest…I have mixed feelings about letting this continue. But I suspect my team will _want_ to keep doing this, keeping the peace, no matter where that might be. I won’t promise anything, but…” he looked Locksley in the eye, “I think we can work something out.”

 

_~ Fin_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a slower story, I admit, but there were several loose ends from "Saving Simmons" that needed to be tied up before we could move on. There's one more loose end in the fallout and that particular 'end' will be dealt with in the story that starts Friday, December 8th 2017: "Magical Heritage".
> 
> Hope ya'll enjoyed this story and please do read and comment: I live for every sparse, scrappy comment I get. Also, don't hesitate to comment just because a story is marked 'complete'. I can always improve and I'm always open to critiques on my work. *Insert shameless begging for more comments*


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